


Time Out

by JRCash



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jail, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRCash/pseuds/JRCash





	Time Out

You took a seat in the hard plastic chair, picking at a loose thread on your sweater as you waited for Clyde to be lead into the visitation room. It had been weeks since you had seen Clyde in person, his only connection to the outside world being his allotted Sunday phone call. Those ten minutes were never enough, hardly time to say anything before the automated voice interrupted the conversation that had barely begun, warning of the seconds remaining before the line would go dead.

You had read the visitation rules of the Monroe County Correctional Facility over and over the night prior. Be on time, be modestly dressed. No weapons, no drugs, no contraband. The list went on and on.

Sleep never came to you. The fear of missing your alarm in the morning kept you awake as you sat alone in Clyde’s trailer. He had asked you to stay there and look after it while he was gone, which you gladly agreed to. You were there most of your free time anyways, even if the conversation of what  _exactly_  your relationship was never happened before Clyde decided to drive through the front window of a convenience store.

A door buzzed, the heavy metal hinges groaning as it opened, causing you to look up. Clyde was being lead across the room to where you sat, shuffling slowly in his prison issued slippers with a guard holding tight on his arm. His ankles were shackled, but his arms were free.

The guard pulled out the chair across the table from you, plopping Clyde down in it.

“30 minutes, Logan. No funny business” the guard warned before retreating to the far side of the room. He looked bored as he leaned back on the concrete wall, crossing his arms as he glanced around the room.

“Hi darlin’” Clyde said with a soft smile as he scooted himself closer to the table. What he would do to be able to touch you, to give you a kiss and greet you like he normally would.

“Have they been treating you alright in here?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Gettin’ real sick of bologna sandwiches but I started readin’ them George R.R. Martin books ever’body’s been talkin’ about”.

You could only nod your head in silence. You hated seeing Clyde like this. His hair had gotten longer, nearly reaching to his shoulders. It looked dull and limp from the institutional shampoo, a stray loc hanging over his face. Wishing you could reach out and fix it, you ignored the thought, taking in the rest of him. You missed him in a faded tee shirt, the ones you had taken to sleeping in solely because they still faintly smelled like him. Now he sat before you in uncomfortable looking striped prison garb. Glancing down under the table, you looked at Clyde’s feet, crossed at the ankle, the metal cuffs connected tightly with a chain that rested against the tile floor.

You had been so excited to finally see Clyde again, yet now, you couldn’t help to be filled with a certain sadness. This isn’t how you wanted to see him at all.

“Ya look tired” Clyde committed, pulling your focus back to him.

“I’ve been keeping your bar afloat and helping Mellie out when I can at the salon” you said before sighing. “I’m about this close to applying at the Grocery Castle just for something extra to get me through”.

Clyde’s brow furrowed as he reached across the table, his hand outstretched towards you.  _You deserve so much better_ , he thought to himself as he waited for you to take his hand.  _Please, I need you to._

You wanted to grab onto him, feel his palm against yours, but you kept your hands clasped together to tightly in your lap.

“Darlin’ I’m sorry. Couple more weeks and everythin’ will be better” Clyde offered in a veiled attempt to make you feel better.

“No attempts at contact!” the guard snapped.

Clyde pulled his hand back across the table and into his own lap with a dejected look on his face. He wished he could tell you about the plan, of why he needed to be in here. How once the heist was over and the heat died down, he would buy you whatever you wanted. You’d never have to pull long nights at the bar with only a quick nap in your car before going off to another job. How he would take you to any place in the world you wished to go, or even if you didn’t want to go anywhere, he’d be right by your side regardless.

“You still have 60 days” you commented dryly. “That seems like an eternity at this point”.

“I fucked up, I know I did” Clyde admitted, his voice lowering to nearly a whisper as he continued “But I had to. Trust me”.

You resisted the strong urge to roll your eyes. Fucked up was an understatement. He was lucky to get off so easy.

Clyde glanced over at the guard, noticing his attention was focused elsewhere. Seizing the moment, he leaned forward towards you.

“Talk to Mellie, okay? Just say cauliflower” he said quietly.

“Cauliflower?” you questioned, confused at the random word.

“Mm-hmm” Clyde hummed, closing as much of the gap between you as he physically could. “I miss ya, sweetheart”.

“Logan!” the guard bellowed across the room as he neared your table in a few long strides. “I told you no funny business!”

You leaned back in your chair in an instant, as far as you possibly could, afraid of any further repercussions. You hadn’t even had the time to tell Clyde that you missed him too before the guard was at his side.

Reaching for Clyde’s arm, the guard pulled him up from his chair, the metal bottom scraping loudly against the tile floor. “Come on, Logan. Back to time out you go”.


End file.
